Our Best Friend
by MsLittleItaly
Summary: 6 th year. Ron dreams about Hermione, Hermione fantasizes about Ron. So, why no one can remove Harry from the head? Least Harry knows what he wants, even if he doesn't have the slightest idea why he wants it, or how to get it. HP/RW/HG
1. Chapter 1Ron

Our best friend

author: MsLittleItaly

M

HP/RW/HG

6 Th year

**Our best friend**

**Chapter 1**

Still yawning, Ron walked down the burrow's creaky stairs for to go to the kitchen. He came into the room where he was greeted by the smell of sausages. Like every morning, his attention was drawn to her future sister-in-law that chirps at side of Bill. His brain muddied until he watched the long silver hair and the delightful halo that surrounded the beautiful French girl. The sounds became muffled as his brain registered the graceful slow-motion movements of the hands of Fleur gesticulating and ran her fingers through her silver thread...

"Hello Ron, still lost in a dream world? - The scornfully voice of Ginny through his numbness and he became aware of the other occupants of the room. His sister looked at him with a raised eyebrow, sitting next to Hermione, who didn't look at him at all, apparently concentrated on pumpkin juice.

"Hello, Ginny. - Said - Hello Hermione. "

"Hello Ronald. " Said the curly-haired friend, in a cold voice, and his mother invited him to sit and have breakfast. Merlin, he hated when Hermione was calling him 'Ronald': it reminded him of his mother when she was angry. Although, this helped him to look into her eyes without blushing like a tomato. Without blushing like the first time she had entered in his dreams, to their 4 Th year: the time from which his wet dreams weren't blurred images of expanses of soft skin, but images of brown curls and hazel eyes ... and even expanse of soft skin. At the time he couldn't see her face for days. A little for embarrassment, a little because his eyes kept falling on other parts of her body, wondering how his friend was under her school uniform. The dreams had become much more audacious since then, but now he was used to them. They were an essential part of his daily life of a male teenager and he had become quite good at separating his dreams from his relationship with the girl. This doesn't prevent him from wishing that his dreams were a reality. But their relationship like now was vary different from their relationship in his fantasies, and in the middle there are delicate and embarrassing steps that he really didn't know how to do.

Better to go with the flow. He filled his plate of steaming sausages and talked right when his mouth was full:

"When does Harry arrive?" He asked looking at his mom and totally ignoring her rebuke on his total lack of good education.

"Harry has already arrived, last night," replied his sister, stabbing scrambled eggs

Ron snapped from his plate, "Oh! – Swallowed hastily and smiled- then let's go '

Hermione gave a small smile, "I'm sure you can finish your breakfast before"

Ron smiled in return, happy that she was back in a good mood (you never know what could happen with Hermione. Women!), and hastened to swallow the rest of his breakfast. He drank his glass of pumpkin juice

"Done," and stood waiting for Hermione to follow him.

She smiled wider following him out of the kitchen

"Thanks for breakfast Mrs. Weasley," Ron raised his eyes to heaven, while his mother had answered the classic 'of nothing, darling', walking to Fred and George's old room, where they knew for days that Harry would sleep.

He and Hermione had often spoken about Harry, about the prophecy and about the death of Sirius. But neither of us had dared to guess what the prophecy said, preferring to worry about the state of Harry. Just the night before, wondering if their friend would come in a mood worse than in their 5 Th year, one thing that Ron considered quite impossible. Hermione was afraid he was depressed and didn't know if they have to talk or avoid the topic. As usual they hadn't arrived at any conclusion, and as usual they were only worried, but excited to see him. Being a friend of Harry was a mess of anxiety and danger, but it was worth it. The boy had a terrible temper when he was in the mood, but Ron knew that he was a loyal sweet friend. Not that Ron would say or even think often about these things: men aren't for the feelings.

Ron opened the door like a cannon shot and saw his friend in the shadowy room that was taking down. He opened the curtains and looked back at Harry: a messy black hair, a skin more pale than tanned cover by a pyjama shirt too big for him that fell down from the shoulder. Harry Potter repaired sleepy eyes with one hand and with the other groping in vain the glasses.

"What?" Harry's voice was hoarse and weak from his sleep and he rubbed his eyes. Ron's heart swelled: Merlin, it was good to see him!

"We didn't know you were already here," he told for greeting, slapping him in the head.

"Ron, don't beat him!" The red boy ignored the hyper-anxious girl and waited for his friend put on his glasses. He lifted his head toward him and stood looking at him with pouting lips and bleary eyes. Then they set fire to him and he smiled. Ron's smile went from ear to ear.

"Are you okay?"

"Never been better," his friend sighed off, plummeting on the pillow and nestled back under the sheets "are you?"

"Not bad," Merlin, he hadn't noticed how much he had missed Harry. Ron and Hermione asked him about Dumbledore, hoping that the information arrive spontaneously, but only news they had is about a new teacher, named Slughorn, and then the Ron's brain black-out again with the arrival of Fleur, who was carrying a tray load of breakfast. The crystal voice entered his mind and he gaped at her, without understanding what she was saying. She gracefully put the tray down on the legs of his friend and kissing him twice. A little something, inside of him, spring in alarm and discomfort until his friend's cheeks blushed. Ron recorded only other chirps and some timid response to Harry, before she stooped again to kiss the dark boy and sailing out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Bah! "Ron is vaguely aware that his mother and his sister had entered the room, and they were repeating a speech that had already done a thousand times: the compatibility between Bill and Fleur. Then Mrs. Weasley came out, closing the door.

Ron still felt faintly dizzy feeling and shook by his friend's slightly giggling.

"Don't you gets used by living together?"

"Well yes, but if she suddenly appears in front of you, as before...»

"Pathetic," said Hermione, who moved away from him as if he had a nasty disease. She was always in a bad mood when he spoke about Fleur. Ron was supposed to be jealous ... after all, the French girl was part Veela.

"Your taste in women are so trivial," Red looked up in disbelief to his sister

"Trivial! Of course it's trivial, there are no reason for a man to don't think Fleur is beautiful? She is beautiful! "

"See that a person is beautiful and drool over her like a dog, are two different things"

"Give me an example!" he challenged

"Well," said Ginny angrily, "I can see that Harry is nice, but I don't remain in a vegetative state when he enter in a room," Ron actually laughed, and Harry choked on the eggs embarrassed.

"Oh yeah sure, was it 'green eyes like toad of pickled!' Or something like it? "Ginny blushed as only one Weasley can do, but could still spoke as if Ron had five years old.

"In fact, Ron, I was eleven, you're sixteen»

"You're saying that I act like a eleven years old?" He said, turning red as his sister. Ginny opened her mouth to answer what was clearly a rhetorical question when Harry interrupted

"Okay, okay, calm down!" Ron redeemed his head to his friend, finding his cheeks burning. The red boy absently wondered how Harry could to blush left his ears white. All Weasley blushed from ear to the whole face; his friend starting blushed with cheeks, giving him an air of feverish / pretty.

Hermione snorted, from his corner, looking at Ron as if she had desired nothing more than Ginny torn him. Women!

For a while nobody said anything, but the irritated red boy wanted to demonstrate the absurdity of the two girl and asked:

"Well, Harry, isn't Fleur beautiful?" He heard loud and clear indignantly sound of Hermione, but he wanted to take his friend by his side, boys against girls, a bit of male solidarity.

"Mh" Harry looked at him with green eyes wide open in disbelief. Ron ignored the little voice in his head asking him if he was masochistic in repelling in this speech. Noting that the girls were waiting in silence for an answer, Harry began to blush. "Well, hem she is beautiful," she said hesitantly, "but I suppose it is not my type"

Surprisingly Ginny giggled

"What do you mean? "Ron pressed, not satisfied with the answer. Couldn't he stop at 'is beautiful'?

"Mean that he is afraid of being killed if it gives you reason," said Hermione aggressively, looking at Harry with air betrayed.

"No." Harry looked alarmed, eyes even bigger, "No, she is beautiful, because, well, she isn't ugly. But ... she is beautiful, you know, just beautiful." They sat in silence, Harry's still with red cheeks. Launching the eyes of his three friends, hoping that they understood what he meant.

"What the hell does 'just beautiful' mean?" Ron looked at his friend like he was crazy

"He mean," said Ginny smug "That Fleur is beautiful of course, but he doesn't find that this beauty is enough to drool like a dog."

Ron looked at his friend again, silently asking for confirmation the words of his sister. Even if, in fact, the red boy hadn't understood what he meant.

"Well, yes," Harry looked at him, trying to decipher if his friend felt betrayed by his response. "She is beautiful, then, we look at she, because it's nice to see. But I suppose that she is not my type, because when I watch to Fleur I only see that she is beautiful. And, her beautiful isn't enough because, I don't know, this not... "He gestured as if he expected that the walls suggested a right word " strike inside me. "

The dark boy's cheeks growing red as he realised how girly sounded that phrase.

"Well," Hermione said, watching his friend smaller, with air between the trade fair, just happy and pleased "at least kids aren't totally superficial."

Harry smiled in return, embarrassed, passing his hand on the neck

"What did Chang 'strikes inside you'?" Ron asked. He had always thought that his friend came out with the Ravenclaw seeker, because it was beautiful (of a different beauty from that of Fleur. Instead of tall and willowy was more petite, but still with curves), but according to the reasoning of Harry, oriental girl must to have something that, looking at her, struck you, as well as beauty.

"Oh, no big deal, knowing it. But I felt was, I don't know… great type?"

"It is a question?"

"I don't know how to tell you, but I thought she was other than 'simply beautiful'. Of course she is, "he added hastily, for fear of being impolite," but not for me. "He looked around, playing with the sheets" have a sense what I said, haven't it? "

"Yes!" Said the two girls at once. Silence. Then everyone looked at Ron.

"Yes, ok. I think I understand, "said the red. Then he added, "But this doesn't prevent me to see that a girl is beautiful, although I find it just beautiful, or she isn't my type, or whatever you want."

The girls sighed exasperated, but Harry smiled in amusement friend

"Merlin, I hope that Dean is less superficial than you Ron. No, wait, it's obvious that he's less superficial than you are! "

"How is he?" Asked the dark boy, looking uncertainly toward his friend, looking for any trace of fraternal jealousy.

"He's fine" Ginny smiled broadly friend "indeed, I should go write to him now»

" You've already written yesterday!" Ron looked at her with narrowed eyes

"Don't you dare to control me, Ron!" smiled the red girl went from to angry expression with surprising speed, "I like Dean, he likes me, end of history: that's not your problem at all!" The brothers looked on askance at each other for a while, then Ginny turned to Harry, "Well, it was nice to see you again. See you after. "She greeted Hermione and left the room.

Ron stared at the door with a frown. It's not that he didn't like Dean. It was a good boy. But he was a boy. Ron remembered the talk he had heard in the dorm, between Dean and Seamus (and himself at times), about girls. Dean was a boy with dreams and desires as a boy. The idea that her sister appeared in the wet dreams of Dean made him nauseous. It also wants to kill his roommate. He wonders if Ginny is also realised that her boyfriend wanted to get his hands under her skirt.


	2. Chapter 2Hermione

**Our best friend**

**author:** MsLittleItaly

M

HP/RW/HG

6 Th year

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything of Harry Potter. _

_**AN:** Ok. I have published this story in Italian. Since Italian is my language, that story will be updated before this. _

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-_

**Our best friend**

**Chapter 2**

Just when Ginny had left, Hermione's mind had moved to most important topics that the superficiality of Ron about the girls. Before Fleur came in the room, she hadn't dared mention Sirius, but had been trying to figure out if Dumbledore had told something to Harry about the prophecy. But, she and Ron had only realised that the old wizard was going to take him by Pivet Drive just for to help him whit recruit a former professor. But at some point, when there were only three of them, Harry had put a fork in the plate of cold scrambled eggs, announcing that he had something to say.

Hermione and Ron stared at him. Here, this was the moment. She and Ron had not dared to assume the contents of the prophecy, but they had talked a lot about the possibility that Dumbledore knew and had talked to their friend. When the boy on the bed had reported them the contents of the ampoule, destroyed at the Department of Mysteries, Hermione choked. Harry must kill Voldemort. Harry had to face the most dangerous dark wizard.

Or he would die.

"Oh Harry," she quickly launched into the bed of his friend, upset. She was vaguely aware of a pale and silent Ron, while watched the blacks haired boy with shining eyes. "I'm so sorry! You will be shocked. Oh, sure you're upset."

" I was more shocked when I heard it for the first time." His friend smiled at her and Hermione felt his heart swell with pride for the positive attitude. "And then, we continue to face us however, as a date." The boy attempted a uncertain laugh, launching a look at Ron from beneath dark lashes, looking for some clue for how he take the news.

Seeing the uncertain look of his friend, the red snapped out of his Shock and smiled, stretched from the concern, but sincere.

"Yeah, and then you have always escaped in one way or another," he said trying to be cheerful "you still eludes, always, you'll see." The boy on the bed smiled in return and Hermione lost any possible residual irritation from the previous conversation that could have whit the red friend. This was one of the things she liked about Ron, and that made she forgive his stupidity and superficiality: he had a good heart and was always trying to pull in high spirits when a friend was shot down. Even this summer when she was taken by anxiety and concern, he was always trying to make us a joke. Sometimes irritated, but she knew that he did it to help, and really liked it. She really liked he.

"Yeah, also, Dumbledore give me private lessons this year," Harry blurted out. The girl jumped out of her thoughts, looking at the friend. Ron gasped:

"Wh-What? Try lessons with Dumbledore, WOW! "

"Yeah sure." Hermione said cheerfully, "of course he will prepare you to face Voldemort –oh, please, Ron!- I bet you'll learn a lot of fascinating things! "

"Yes," the red seemed really excited now " who know how many powerful spells he knows. Maybe he'll teach those who used it against Grindelwand! "

"Surely it will teach you a lot of defensive spells. What did Dumbledore would teach you? "

"He only said 'a little of this, a little of that'" Harry leaned back on the pillow, smiling as if they were the happiest person on earth, and Hermione realised that their reaction was problem for he. Probably, the idiot had thought they would be treated he as a bomb or something similar. She inwardly sighed for the idea.

"Come on, finish your breakfast, you need it."

Harry giggled, standing up and taking the fork from the cushions

"I do not think that my ability to kill Voldemort is proportional to the amount of food I eat." he said putting cold eggs in the mouth.

"You know, Hermione," Ron said, looking at her friend with a puzzled expression, "you begins to sound like my mother"

"It isn't strange that your mom thinks that everyone should eat like an elephant, after all, she are accustomed to your appetite."

"Hey! I am a growing boy, "the red explained, smiling. Hermione smiled in return, love to joke with him in this way, no real bickering, but blushed slightly. She had, of course, already noticed that the boy had grown much, in height (as if he needed it), but he was also strengthened, especially on the shoulders, thing that the old T-shirt emphasised pretty well. She hoped that her friends don't notice the direction of her thoughts, so, she focused on Harry, who had finished breakfast. The ruffled-haired boy bit her lip, and assumed an air suddenly shy.

"There's another thing I want to tell you," he said softly, looking between the two friends. They waited in silence to go on, not knowing what to think. What else could be?

Harry took a deep breath before saying with a low but firm tone, "I want to apologize to you and say thank you"

Hermione realized that the thanks was for the support, but wondered what the apology are for. The dark-haired raised his hand to stop Ron when he opened his mouth, presumably for ask him what he was talking about, watching him how he had three heads "... I was horribly irritable throughout the past year, and I'm sorry"

"Hey, mate, you had a lot on your plate"

"I know Ron, but this doesn't change that I took my frustrations on you, many times. You have to put up, you stay close to me, always, even now. So, well, thank you." he added quietly, but watching them in their eyes.

"Oh Harry, it is obvious that we remain close. You're our best friend." said Hermione, taking his hand over the sheets to emphasize her words.

"Yeah, and then, don't you believe that we had already put in account, do you? We know that you have a terrible temper when you're in the mood, you know." Ron joked, always trying to keep things light, and making the friend blushing in embarrassment and throw a wicked gleam from under the tufts of messy hair.

"Perhaps this is why we are so good together, is it right?" Asked Harry.

"Right. Hermione and I bear your anger, the ability to thrust into trouble, suicidal heroism, and you bear us." Harry and Hermione giggled. Hermione ventured to stretch the other hand, place it on Ron's hand, confident that the gesture would not have been 'misunderstood' on this occasion, and because the other hand was still on Harry's. The boys shook them to her, smiling, and she felt warm the soul. Ron and Harry. Without them, she would be an unbearable bookworm (even though she knew that someone still thought so) and would not have known the joys of friendship, loyalty and courage. And without them ... she remember that time when they have not even talked, in their third year. It was not the same without them.

She withdrew her hands from friends and ordered Harry to wash and dress.

Dropped back into the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley Harry dutifully thanked for breakfast, Ron barely had time to propose a game of chess before his mother noticed three owls close the window

"Oh," the dark-haired girl said, "must be our OWL, Dumbledore had said would be there today."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

"What!" How could forgotten it? "Why did not you say so before? Oh no! I'm sure I did everything wrong. "God, how could she? Surely something was wrong.

"I'm sure you do not have anything wrong," Ron was a little pale and would have preferred that the owl does not ever arrive, "you have done everything right, as always..."

"Oh stop it!" Hermione began to panic as the owls through the window opened by Mrs. Weasley. This was one of those times when she was good to hear that did not help her at all. Surely it was not perfect and when they thought that she was the first to see the results made her feel under pressure and waiting for something to come to debunk the myth.

All of the owls landed on the table and lifted his leg while waiting for the recipients' open their letters. Hermione threw himself on her owl looking forward to seeing his vote even though her hands were scheming to anxiety. It was barely aware that Ron and Harry untied their letters hesitant, as if they were not convinced to want to read.

She unrolled the letter and tried to stop the trembling of the hands to be able to read what was written. His eyes quickly slipped on the lines of ink. His heart began to calm down. Perhaps after all had gone well. Could hope for? He read his vows again. Oh. She had gone well. He read them again, this time concentrating on every vote, to be sure. His heart began to beat normally. He had taken the maximum in all subjects except Defence Against the Dark Arts, where he took a beyond all expectation. Had passed. Ron and Harry next to her compared their letters

"I knew you'd taken the ultimate defence against the dark arts," She heard Ron beat on the back of his friend, and Mrs. Weasley congratulate both. Yes, Harry would certainly have taken the ultimate defence. That was a certainty.

"Hermione?" The voice of Harry hesitantly made her aware that he was still with his eyes fixed on the letter. He felt ashamed. Ok, maybe he was overreacting, but deep down you never know, right?

"It 's all right?" Harry spoke as if he were afraid that you shoot from one moment to another. The girl was ashamed a little.

"Oh, yes. Not bad. "He said, embarrassed. Ron snorted

"Yes, sure, give me this," the red hands and snatched the letter from Hermione blushed even embarrassed

"Oh Merlin! All outstanding and beyond all expectations, you have to be very disappointed. "He smiled and Harry enjoy

"Well, he was not granted."

"Hermione was certain that granted," said Ron, raising his eyes to heaven, "When do you got a bad grade? Come on, we need to eat something to celebrate "

-MLI-

They spent the rest of the day just laughing, chatting, and playing. That night Hermione entered the small but bright room that he shared with Ginny with a relaxed smile on his face. Ginny was reading, sitting cross-legged on his bed, with her green gown made her look like an elf.

"What are you reading?" He asked gleefully slipping between the sheets

"Broomsticks" said the red, concentrated.

"What?" Hermione looked puzzled her friend, "What kind of magazine is it?"

"Quidditch."

"Oh!"

Ginny, distracted attention from his reading, watching roommate with a mischievous smile, "Why? What did you think of speaking a magazine called 'Broomsticks'? "

"Nothing," said Hermione, looking up at the sky. With Ginny always ended up on certain topics. "Just wondering"

"It was not obvious?" The curly-haired girl snorted

"Well, yes. But do not tell me you do not believe that anyone named to the magazine took advantage of two-way, "Ginny giggled

"Yes, I think he did. But you know, "he added with a whisper conspiratorially," if you care enough to ask that kind of magazine, "Hermione's eyes widened. What?

"You ... You ... you have a magazine like that?" She knew that Ginny was now far from shy and scared little girl who became deceived by Riddle's diary, but she really was reading porn magazines? Ginny shrugged

"I'm not subscribed to it at all, but I wanted to try to see one." Then she asked: "Do not make me a sermon for this true?"

Hermione looked at her friend with her mouth slightly open in astonishment, but closed it quickly noticed that the red looked more serious and perhaps a little worried. Well, she had never been a girl narrow-minded, and did not want to start now.

"No, of course not. It's just, well, I didn't expect. I've never thought about this" Ginny smiled at her again, reassured, but this time without malice.

"You know, people might think that you will not upset about a magazine for adults whereas your best friends are two guys," Hermione snorted

"Not all kids read those things." But then, to her mind appeared an image of Ron drooling over a naked, blonde, willowy girl, reproduced on a satin page. It was not an unlikely scenario. But she couldn't really imagine Harry in the same situation. Or maybe could.

"Maybe not all" Ginny pulled her out of her distraction, "but someone do. I don't think there's anything wrong"

Hermione looked at her red friend with interest.

"You aren't worried, or something, whit the idea that Dean spend time looking at fake naked girls?". Ginny thought about it, and answer.

"No. If he fantasizes about another girl, then yes. But I think there is nothing wrong with peeking a magazine." The redhead smiled mischievously, again, " I really would love to see what he looks, to know what he likes. Moreover, the idea of my boyfriend intent on doing dirty things, it's not bad at all!"

Hermione blushed crimson for last part, but not shoot her friend. She liked to talk to Ginny, because the girl talked about everything without fear, without hiding, speaking frankly, kidding, but seriously thinking about what she said. It had given her something to think about.

The curly-haired girl knew she had a crush on Ron. Ok, maybe it was more than a crush. When, to their 4 Th year, the boy had seen her as a last resource for the dance, she felt deeply hurt. At first, her thought to feel this way for his female pride. She was a smart girl, this did not mean that she wasn't a girl. To think that 'intelligent' and 'girl' can not coexist is degrading for the female gender. But in the end, she had to admit to herself that was for Ron that she wanted to prove to be a girl, more than all the others. In short, she had to admit that simply liked his freckled friend.

"Do you want to see one?" Hernione looked at her friend with his mouth open.

"Watching a stranger plastic sluts do things? No thanks." but her voice cracked on the last part as if she had actually afraid of the magazine. Ginny noticed it and smiled sweetly. Hermione felt ablaze.

"What's wrong? Precisely because it is a plastic stranger, it's good to do this. It's not like you're spying on someone without consent." The curly-haired girl was silent. The reasoning made sense, but still ...

"Look for educational purposes" Ginny urged. Hermione had the courage to look at her friend and raise her eyebrow "Educational purposes?"

"Aren't you curious to know ... how it works?"

"I already know 'how'. I read books on sex education," The Curly said more calmly. Reading and knowledge. Here is her territory. And: no: she wasn't ashamed to have read those books. They were scientific books that every girl should reads to learns about the functioning of your body ... and the human body in general. Ginny made a sound between a snort and a laugh. Hermione looked bad.

"I'm not trying to force you to anything, you know. It 'just an offer. And a good talk. I must admit, the technical/reproduction operation is not all there is to know. There's more, you know, and what's wrong if someone wants to know? "

Ok, again reasoning makes sense.

"So?"

"Well, nothing wrong" but still she was dying of embarrassment, more now than before.

"Come on Hermione, don't need to go into spontaneous combustion. It's not that I asked you what you're thinking when you touch yourself in the evenings of solitude "

"Oh! Ginny! " The red girl laughed while dodging the pillow steering wheel. Not that she ever did. He had done it a few times, but certainly not often and never with, say, a final goal. But even she didn't think there was something wrong.

She looked at her friend who had taken possession of the pillow. Ginny was a girl solar and outgoing, and definitely not a goose. If she...

With this thought, she realized that her problem was, she was afraid of being a goose and a ... well, slut, to think too much about certain things. And she realized that she was a bigot and thought rather childish. Ok, was going to make a quantum leap in his knowledge of the subject. With red cheeks stretched a hand towards her friend.

"Well, you could give me back my pillow? And, if you insist on the usefulness of those magazines, one that you speak of other broomsticks.

Hermione forced herself to watch even her friend's eyes, despite the smile of red girl. But Ginny then turned serious.

"It's not that then you think ill of me, right? Because I'm not Lavender, you know. "

The Curly laughed, surprised. "Oh, Ginny! I could never think of you as a Lavender-girl. And then, if I'm asking you, wont to say that you convinced me with your words." Hermione felt safer now that her friend had shown her own concerns.

Ginny giggled and walked to the trunk. "Well," she said until she pulled out a pile of textbooks. She pull out a magazine and turned to look at the girl on the bed with red cheeks. Hermione smiled, now the shy-Ginny stuck out again. What timing. "None ever looks of the textbooks," said handing her a magazine.

The curly-haired looked at the cover. It didn't seem too bad for the moment. Only a man in his thirties with a ripped, shirtless, and his hands snaked into his pants. Then he saw the magic photo being moved. The guy winked making the girl blush.

"Well," said Ginny. "I know it's embarrassing, but it's nothing that any of my brothers does. ... Unable or unwilling to do." Hermione blushed more when an image of a particular brother of Ginny races in mind. "Merlin, probably ... no, I say, surely my father do it… Or your. "

"Ginny!" Hermione felt sick. Really it was something that did not want to think. The redhead chuckled.

"Hey, it's just men," she said, "a plague that it is better to know what to avoid groped" joked smiling.

"Ok, I understand," Ginny nodded and went back to bed and relaunched the pillow, recommending only that did not find her mother or her father, or her brothers and Harry, or any living being in effect.

"Don't worry Gin. And ... thank you for so open with me. "Hermione realized that her friend must have made an effort to insist on what started as a joke, and continued as a simple debate.

"Not at all."

Hermione immediately opened the magazine, as she would any other book, the embarrassment to the subject forgotten in the face of curiosity. While the images were moving, she thanked that there was no audio.

_**AN:** Ok. I have published this story in Italian. Since Italian is my language, that story will be updated before this. If someone is brave and knows the Italian and English better than me, and wants to try a translation from Italian (better written) to English (which I wrote definitely worse) contact me, and I will be happy!_

_I really like the reviews. They help me to move forward. Just so you know ;-)_


	3. Chapter 3Harry

Our best friend

author: MsLittleItaly

M

HP/RW/HG

6 Th year

Our best friend

**Chapter 3**

Harry Potter woke up the morning of his sixteenth birthday surrounded by a feeling of peace and security. He had spent the days following his arrival within the confines of the burrow, often playing Quidditch two against two: he and Hermione against Ron and Ginny. The sister of his best friend seemed to have got the Weasley's talent, and Hermione was terrible. Ginny had teased her friend saying she had to practice because _"it was always useful to know how to ride a broomstick"_. Hermione was not the only one to blush at the two-way sentence. Ginny had whispered to the curly-haired girl, but Harry was close enough to hear her. He preferred not to think of his intelligent friend ride any thing: to do that made him feel a little... well, a little guilty and dirty. But it was a shame that Ron had not heard, would surely fall off his broom comic. Harry smiled mental image of the antics of his friends, basking in the feeling of support and affection that he had sent the morning after his arrival, when they spoke of the prophecy.

After an indeterminate time in the past lounging lazily in his bed got up and got ready for the day. When Harry came into the kitchen in full sun greeted the room through the windows, the smell of breakfast and gave him mouth-watering.

"Good morning." Greeted entering. He was immediately greeted by a chorus of birthday wishes: the radiant "Happy Birthday, Harry," Hermione and Ginny, the "Happy birthday dear" Mrs. Weasley, the chirpy "happy birthday Harrì" Fleur, as always plastered on the side of his smiling boyfriend, who waved a hand wishing him "Happy Birthday", Ron was not yet fallen. Once, at Christmas, his friend Red told him that his face was ecstatic for a child of five years. Harry thought at the time did not have to be very different, but he felt justified, considering that the Dursleys was not invited to the birth and that his birthday had been forgotten or, worse, ignored. His birthday had ended up being just another day. Until I went to Hogwarst.

"Harry dear, happy birthday." Mrs. Weasley repeated, giving him a hug that made him feel happy at the same time embarrassed. "It is rather late ..."

"I am very sorry Mrs. Weasley," the boy blushed, realizing that, apart from Mr. Weasley was probably at work, all the others had waited for breakfast.

"No, no, dear, no need to apologize! It 's your birthday, after all, "Mrs. Weasley said hastily," only that Ron has not yet awakened, and now you're here too, there's really no reason not to wake him, "Hermione saw the boy puffing out of the corner of 'eye. "I'll go if he wants to" Harry offered, already imagining different methods brutal and fun to wake his best friend.

"You are very kind dear, thank you," said the woman, not knowing or pretending not to know why Harry was so helpful to the mission. The two younger girls, however, seemed to know the size of the undertaking if the "good luck" Ginny was an indication. Both girls giggled, and Harry noticed that seemed a lot closer in recent days. Harry thought that her friend Curly was probably very happy to share the room with the red girl, especially when compared with its usual roommates at school: Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. He always had the impression that, although the three dorm mates were on good terms, Hermione had never very emotionally tied to the other two.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, which is not easy, given that the den had not just magically collapsing the air, but it was all a crackling, Harry traveled all odd stairs to the landing of Ron.

A life of sneaking, and the Dursleys, where his presence was to be invisible mallet, both in his walks at night Hogwarst, had provided the boy haired blacks of an agile and stealthy step of which was rather proud. His plan was to go quietly into the bedroom of his friend (although, probably, Ron would not wake even if Hagrid it were entered) and then brutally beat him with that horrible orange pillow Ron held the chair in his desk. The friend would be shocked. Lowered quickly but silently opened the door handle; opened the door ... and stopped half way, even with the door half open. As was his mouth.

Ron was not sleeping at all, in fact he was quite active at the time. He was lying on his back, left leg bent, and if this position formed a light curtain between her legs, did not prevent the movement of the sheet and the right arm of his friend, were pretty explanatory of what was happening. Explaining how and ansata breaths held. After sharing a dormitory with four boys for five years, Harry had become quite used to hearing, to recognize and endure the noise of someone who masturbates. But that didn't make it less embarrassing at the time.

Besides, he had never seen someone do it directly, because their beds were Hogwarst canopy, and thanks to God all the curtains pulled. Feeling blushing from head to foot, he stepped back quietly, leaving the door ajar, not daring to close it now that he knew that his friend was quite awake. For the same reason had not the courage to leave. And then, if he dropped what he should say to Mrs. Weasley? "I'm sorry ma'am, but Ron is masturbating right now, so I'm going to call him later. Oh, but don't worry, apparently he's already awake. ". No, he would expect that Ron was over, waited a little longer, and then would come in, making as much noise as possible (even before enter), and behaving as if he knew nothing. The last part was essential.

He too was woken up with the incredible desire to masturbate, and times when he succumbed to the temptation, he fervently hoped that the dorm-mates hadn't heard. He was sure that could not be always so lucky, but appreciated that it not be mentioned. In fact, every now and then, Seamus and Dean were some awkward allusions in the morning, if they were woken to the sound of some friend masturbating in the night. But this, if it had intimidated at first, had never stopped anyone for very long. Harry had always tried to do as little and as quietly as possible. But waking up because of the desires of others was almost more embarrassing than waking up to their own. This is because Harry never knew how to behave. And it was very embarrassing to discover that, at times, his body was found sensitive to the mere sound of someone 'having sex with himself.' On those occasions he had ignored his body, and stop. He also discovered that think of Arthur and Molly Weasley intent in the conception of their numerous children greatly helped to reduce arousal.

When from the Ron's bed came of pain muffled a grunt, followed by panting sighs, Harry continued to pretend does not exist, hoping that his friend ricomponesse immediately. He cursed his 'little-Harry' in the jealously asking the same treatment he had received Ron's one. Thanking for once the baggy pants of his cousin Dudley, Harry waited a little longer listening to the remix of his friend on the other side of the door. Then he jumped up onto the step below the landing, hoping that the noise does not prove too obvious or too sudden, and then back to the door of Ron lowering the handle firmly even if the door was ajar and entering, almost shouting:

"Wake up sleepy head!"

The red friend was in bed, his hands clutching the edge of the sheet tight and flushed face, probably for several reasons.

"For Merlin's pants, Harry, you made me do a shot," he said with an air agitated and upset that he was very convincing, and, in fact, very authentic. Trying not to blush blacks haired boy said quickly:

"I'm sorry. Your mom sent me to wake up. They're all waiting to have breakfast together, "

"Oh, oh. OK ... um. I actually wanted to take a quick shower, you start well, I'll join you in a hurry "

"Okay, if you say it's ok" Harry shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant way, and averting his eyes reddened by his friend, was soon at the door, not wanting more than to be out of there.

"Oh, Harry!" The boy froze on the landing.

"Yes?" He asked, peering through the door. Ron looked rather embarrassed. _O my God, I was caught!_

"Happy Birthday"

_... Oh!_ Harry felt a smile by dividing the face.

"Thanks!" Now Ron looked amused, probably by his reaction. Still smiling, the blacks haired boy walked away shouting "and move if you want to find some more sausage"

Back in the kitchen, Harry found rather annoyed Mrs. Weasley, Ginny looked eager and the plate of sausages. Bill was still distracted with Fleur.

"Good Lord, Harry," Hermione said, "why it took you soo much?"

Harry blushed

"Um .." his first impulse was to answer "Ron just don't want to wake up", but surely she would have complained to Ron, and Harry would have been discovered. "I'm sorry, my fault: I forgot to write something on the rate of Transfiguration and I went to write it down before I forget again," _What a bad excuse! _

Hermione looked at him a little surprise but a little proud, but puzzled Ginny raised an eyebrow. Before anyone could say anything, Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley "Ron said to start without him, because he wanted to take a shower," a series of puffs from various directions, and while everyone grumbled about his friend, the boy drew a sigh of relief and sat down, following the example of Ginny , who had already taken a sausage.

-.-MLI-.-

Mrs. Weasley had organized a small party for the evening, and seemed determined that everything was perfect and without a shadow of bad news. Nevertheless, when members of the order came, they did so accompanied by bad news.

"What? Is Florian Fortinbras gone?" Harry asked, having read that piece of conversation between Bill and Lupin.

"Yes," replied Bill, "but he, unlike Ollivander, has certainly given battle"

"But, think he's alive?" Harry was quite impressed with the news of the disappearance of the ice cream man. The idea that Ollivander, the historic designer chopsticks, had disappeared was disturbing, but Harry was, in a sense, more upset for Florian. Firstly because, while the talented of the old designer could be somewhat attractive for the Dark Lord (especially with the knowledge of nucleus Gemini), unlike the ice cream could not be of much use, or too much bother for Voldemort. Unless the crazy annoying find worthy to be made to disappear, all that is disassociated from him.

"There wasn't a black mark, and this leads us to suppose that he has saved, but we can not say with certainty. "Bill continued.

"Yes, well, there is no need to talk about this now ..." Mrs. Weasley tried, once again, to stop the depressing topics.

"I hope he's right," Harry said, looking back on his stay in Diagon Alley, when he was 13 years old (after having inflated his Aunt Marge), when he went from the muscular ice-cream man least once a day.

"Did you know him?" Hermione asked.

Harry smiled, remembering the easy smile tattooed man, that every day had an excuse to offer a huge ice cream, winked to him. "He always offered me the ice cream ... I really liked"

Ron chuckle, "I can imagine. I think I might like Mr. Filch if he ever offer me an ice cream "

Harry snorted, "I doubt it. He was still very kind beyond the offering of ice cream. I helped me with my homework, they knew a lot things about burning of witches, and then ... "

"Really?" Said Hermione, already more interested, and looking a bit surprised.

Ron raised his eyes to heaven, with a grunt mixture of laughter and a sound of disapproval "Did you think that tattoos man were all ignorant louts?"

"No," said Hermione, alarmed by the prosecution, even if the redness suddenly appeared on his face said otherwise. When the red skeptical raised an eyebrow in her direction she blushed even more "I mean," she added, bringing her long fingers to haunt curly hair in a gesture of embarrassment that her friends knew very well, "I don't think all tattoos are ignorant louts. But I always thought that Florian Fortinbras had looked a little ... like a pirate "  
>Harry smiled at the image of the ice-cream man with a bandana on his head and a sword in his hand. Ron chuckled the first to cry out with enthusiastic tone:<p>

"And that's what makes it cool," said Ron. The curly-haired friend snorted.

"I beg to differ," said acid, regaining her composure, "is not enough that a person has long hair, signs of unshaven, tattooed and muscular arms to be 'cool'. In fact, I think that most people with these characteristics are, in fact, quite unpleasant. "

"Ok," said the red stubborn expression "then, more precisely, I was referring to a pirate without the smell of alcohol and sweat, with all the teeth clean and healthy, with no legs of wood, and all eyes in their place ".  
>Hermione tried unsuccessfully to turn the laugh into a cough. Ron smiled, rather pleased, as he had a tendency to do when he could draw a smile to the reluctantly girl.<p>

Harry chuckled expression of his friend, and about Hermione and the way in which he regained his composure quickly. The celebrated sound of Fleur's chirping on his right, where she had direct conversations on more cheerful, with the great pleasure of Molly, caught his attention. Although, in the Harry's opinion, Mrs. Weasley should reconsider her position, because the French girl had begun, even, to speak of her marriage to Bill. The bridegroom was enjoying the sausages, just participating in the conversation, and Harry wondered idly if it were not for the argument around exasperation, or total confidence in the organizational skills of his girlfriend. Or maybe it was just his way of doing things. The blacks-haired boy didn't know a lot of the major Weasley, but he had never seen rough, even when the Death Eaters, two summers ago, the World Cup, had begun to create havoc at the campsite. Looking at the guy with long red hair, who would not have seemed out of place at a rock concert, Harry smiled and turned back to his friends, who were still bickering.

"I'm not biased Ron," Hermione now seemed more annoyed than offended "really, it's just a percentage, how many other people who... look different are not, don't say bad, but at least ... eccentric." The red mouth opened, then closed, squinting in concentration.

"Bill, for example," has infiltrated Harry "has long hair, earring and has numerous other trinkets, and seems to have a passion for the skin."

"There!" Said Ron triumphantly, looking puzzled the girl with his 1000 watt smile, dimples forming freckled cheeks. The girl glanced at Bill, and Harry urged:

"Do You think he would be unpleasant if he had tattooed?"

Ron choked unexpectedly in his bite. Hermione looked at him raising an eyebrow, opening his mouth to comment on something (surely the chewing technique of their friend), but then her eyes spun to Bill, her ears becoming a fire, and the girl gasp. Harry was puzzled for a moment, but when Hermione's brown eyes shone with surprise and curiosity, speculatively jumping on Bill, he felt his eyes widen their understanding.

"Has he got one?" The girl whispered freckled friend.

Ron continued to cough. Hermione handed him the glass of pumpkin juice with a touch of impatience. The boy drank a little, red ears, even to suffocation, before whispering, "should be a secret, don't tell Mom. I shouldn't even know it "

"Doesn't your mother know it?" She asked with a slightly surprised tone

"Hey, my mom doesn't know everything. And then, you saw what she thinks of Bill's long hair .. " he whispered, looking nervously at his mother, as if expecting that suddenly she began to scream.

"What is it?" Said Harry. He couldn't say why it was so strange, but it was. If he had to imagine someone with a tattoo, then it would be Charlie. It was not difficult to imagine the muscular guy with a dragon painted on colored flesh. In addition, it would be in keeping with his work. Perhaps his mind had connected the idea of the tattoo in the muscles? _Stereotypes, like that of tattoos and yokels_.

"I don't know what it is, but…I know where" he added, reddened, after a little hesitation.

Harry raised an eyebrow, curious, and Hermione threw another glance in the direction of Bill, before returning to Ron questioningly. Their friend cleared his throat and came whispering.

"Well, I once heard Fred and George who spoke. They'd seen Bill in the bathroom, take a shower, and had noticed the tattoo, but they hadn't understood what it represented "Ron expectations. Them as well.

"So?" Urged the girl, angrily. Harry smiled, obviously Red was now enjoying the attention, and waited the impatiently girl asked the to continue.

"Well, it was ..." The voice of Ron died suddenly and blushedas, if he had noticed that was saying something strange. "Well, ... Er ... it was, you know, down there," Harry felt his eyes become more inclusive. _Under? As… in? It will not be ... God, this was hurt!_

The boy turned away by his tomato-colored and saw Hermione stiffened, her hands shooting back to haunt her hair. Then, after a silent pause, the girl forced them in her lap, and stared at Ron firmly, with a light dusting of pink on the cheeks.

"No, I don't know," she said. Harry continued to stare _... what?_ "I don't know what you mean by 'down there'." Ron looked at Hermione as though she had another head checked. Harry wished he had pulled out Bill. This was a conversation that he didn't want to have with Hermione. No, this was a conversation that he didn't want to have. Point.

"You know," Ron tried again, with red ears, but the puzzled expression, "the story of the bee, the stinger ..." _O God!_ Harry felt a slight warmth on the cheeks ablaze in a fire.

"Ron," Hermione looked at his friend, still red ... but almost offended. "Perhaps, you think I have never read a book on sex education?" _O God! _... How could she say 'that word' in front of his friends ...? "I asked only to be more precise." Then, composing and gaining security, added "and less childish. In short, we are all sixteen year olds here. Surely you can tell if you mean pubic area, groin or something" _Oh! My! God!_

Harry felt he was going to die from spontaneous combustion. It was certain. Ron seemed to be under the same conditions: red and wide-eyed disbelief. If for the subject or the way Hermione was facing it, Harry didn't know. On the other hand, the girl had never been ashamed of anything that had anything to do with knowledge, education se… that, shouldn't be an exception. An image of his curly friend absorbed to take notes, with enthusiasm and diligence, on a book of sex education, appeared spontaneously in his head. _Oh God!_ This has made him feel very small, insignificant and immature, and strangely fascinated and impressed. His stomach twisted into curious, tight knots. _Oh God!_

"Er ..." Ron didn't seem to be able to take my eyes off Hermione, who seemed to strive to look impassive. The red boy cleared his throat before trying again "um ... pubis. I think. Pubis. "

"Oh." Was all Hermione said, still a little tense. But, once deemed the news, she and Harry couldn't resist to throw a quick glance at Bill, as if expecting a big indicative arrow.

"Yeah." Ron began to babble, clearly nervous and embarrassed. "That is a great place if you don't want people to see it. Above all Mom, I mean. Of course it has to do a hell of hurt. Anyway, Mom would kill him. He was too young. Or, certainly, she thinks he was. I was seven years old when I heard the conversation between Fred and George. But then she would kill him today even. 'You're such a nice guy, why spoil your body' "

"Well, not entirely wrong." Hermione interrupted him, now much more relaxed and without a trace of awkward conversation, "Why get a tattoo?" Asked again, bringing the conversation to the beginning, before the brackets gossip.

"It's not a way to disfigure your body!" said Ron, still stubbornly "is ... An ornament, a decoration."  
>Hermione raised an eyebrow, "A decoration? On the pubis? "<p>

"Ok." He said seriously looking at her, with an air of determination, trying not to blush, "a decoration very private" Hermione broke into a smile.

Harry thought Sirius suddenly. At his godfather like to talk about tattoos ... and also 'anatomy'. He smiled to himself, recalling a night in Grimuald Place when Sirius and Remus had been drinking a bit 'too much.

"Sirius told me that some of his tattoos had made in memory of something," he added suddenly. He didn't know what had made him say, and felt a little uncomfortable noting that his friends suddenly became silent. Knowing that they were just worried about him, Harry smiled, to let them know he was fine. They reciprocated.

"It's very sweet," said Hermione in a gentle voice.

Harry chuckled, a little embarrassed, a little imagining the face that Sirius would have to hear that his many and impressive tattoos he had earned the adjective 'sweet'. Harry was pretty sure them were also a sign of rebellion from his parents. He remembered the quote, below the rear base of the neck, which read "_Children begin by loving Their parents. After a time They judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them._" That in addition to being a clear sign of how he felt toward his parents, it was also a quote Muggle, Oscar Wilde, said Sirius.

Recalling the back of his godfather, Harry noticed that Sirius wasn't overly muscular, not as Florian Fortinbras or Charlie, but had a lot of tattoos. Harry tried to imagine himself as a tattoo ... No, he couldn't. Pout inwardly, idly wondered why he liked to see tattoos decorating the bodies of others but not able to really imaginal on himself.

"Well," Ron said, interrupting his thoughts, and looking a little green, "I don't want to think about what could have made my brother, 15 years old, to want to impress in his memoirs, which could be connected with his pubis."

At this Harry's eyes widened and he laughed, feeling Hermione do the same next to him.

-.-MLI-.-

Harry was standing idly on the bed, looking at the ceiling. He didn't matter that Ron and Hermione didn't believe him. Frankly, I was so sure he was right, that he knew that eventually they too would understand. Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. His two best friends had laughed at the idea, but Harry was sure. Malfoy had acted strangely and in a suspicious manner, more than usual, and neither Ron nor Hermione had found a plausible hypothesis.

The trio had met the blond boy a few days before, in Diagon Alley. The day after Harry's birthday, came to the burrow the letters of Hogwarst, containing lists of books. The youngest boy also contained a brooch as a captain. Deciding not to send more, after a few days, they were organized to go shopping in Diagon Alley. Mrs. Weasley had wished that there was also the husband, and was very tense and anxious about idea to get out 'these days'. Ron had taken a good dressing down, making a joke about Voldemort, but he had learned to be quiet, for fear that mother wouldn't allow him to go see the new shop of Fred and George.

The group went to Diagon Alley on board of Ministry's machines. Harry was almost a heart attack thinking angrily that he had to walk down the street with an escort. But was happy to find that 'escort' was none other than Hagrid, who had accompanied the trio to Madam Mc Clan. And it was there that they met Malfoy, with his dear mother.

Despite hours Lucius was in Azkaban, Draco and his mother still treated everyone as if they were something nasty stuck to the soles of their expensive shoes. This actually rendered Harry even safer his theory: bet that Draco would feel honored receive orders by Voldemort. This was their conception of pureblood? Someone willing to bow in front of a homicidal maniac, among other things with muggle father, if the Riddel's diary was a clue. Well, if Draco Malfoy had some mission commissioned by Voldemort, and Harry was sure, then he would have discovered what it was. And Ron and Hermione would see he was right.

About Ron ... Harry stood up, deciding to see if his friend had liberated the shower. He picked up his pajamas, his bathroom things, and went to the upstairs. He found the shower still running on the other side of the door. He knock loudly.

"Ron, are you still here?" He asked.

No response. He tried again, screaming.

"RON?"

"YES?"

"Do you have done, yet?"

Silence. A groan. then:

"Hell, man! I'm sorry, I didn't notice the time."

Harry snorted. " Really, Ron, you take it longer that a girl!"

"CONCORD !» the green-eyes boy jumped in front of the door to Ginny's voice, coming from behind a door on the landing, where we deduced was the girls' room.

"SHUT UP!" Ron yelled back. The water is finally extinguished. Harry chuckled. In factboth Ron and Ginny put us a lot.

Shortly after Ron went out with wet hair and only his pajama bottoms.

"Fuck, I'm sorry!" He said all reddened by the heat and the embarrassment of being 40 minutes in the shower.

Harry chuckled at the blast of humid heat that came out of the bathroom door with his friend, "What have you done? A sauna?" Ron's ears became, if possible, even more red. Now it seemed really embarrassed.

"Yes, uh, I was relaxing ... .. and, mh, I lost the time," Red friend nervously ran a hand on her stomach, a nervous gesture that Harry had seen it often, to his amusement. Although now, since the lack of t-shirt from Ron, it would be easier saying 'on the stomach', rather than 'on the stomach'. _God, he had done a hell of hot in that bathroom!_ And it was really wrapping.

He looked up on embarrassed hazel eyes of his friend, putting a finger into the collar of his large t-shirt and away from the neck, that began to feel wet and hot. _God it's so hot!_

"Yes, well, I don't know how you're not dead for hot in here ..."

"Oh, I'm sorry ..." and then, as if he had noticed that he was still of the doorway, he jumping out, passing close to Harry without the courage to watch him.

"Are you okay?" _Okay embarrassment... but this. _

The red gave a strange laugh, "well" they looked for a moment. Then Ron smiled and said "forget it" gave him one of his usual pat on the shoulder before turning to his room and start saying "bathroom is your!"

Harry looked puzzled, then shrugged his shoulders, refusing to understand what whirred for the head of his friend.

He entered in the vapor that was the bathroom after a shower of a friend, took off his clothes and used his shirt to dry from steam a corner of shelf where to place his things. He opened the window a little, to try to let out some steam without taking a hell. After years at the Dursleys was something that Harry did regularly. They always leave him the last to take a shower, so they should clean up their mess. And Ron, in comparison to Harry's cousin, who was more orderly, perhaps because Dudley was a mess on purpose. Considering that Harry had a quarter of an hour since Dudley had gone out to find the bathroom shiny and clean, dark-haired boy had quickly learned to be quick.

Sure, Harry had also learned to relax, since he had gone to Hogwarst. Once, in the second year, had even tried to blame all the comfort of the world. Seamus insisted that a long hot shower was what he needed to relax for the "mysterious" events that followed the kidnapping of Ginny. Harry has always suspected that he felt guilty for thinking of him as the heir of Slytherin. Ridiculous! However, after 15 minutes Harry was running out of ideas on how to pass the time. He had to admit that over the years he discovered that the shower was great for other things ... sometimes, sleeping in a dormitory with four other boys, was the place where you could get privacy ...

Harry froze, hands on stomach who was soaping. The thought that had just been built over one of Ron, on the morning of his birthday, and Ron, embarrassed after spending 40 minutes in the shower. Embarrassed after that Harry ask him what he's done for long time… _Could it be ...?_ _No, no. Better not think about it ... Fuck!_ Harry watched the twitching of his impertinent partner. _Damn it._ Harry felt to go up in flames for embarrassed, though (thank God!) there was nobody to see him. The boy sighed heavily supporting the front of the cold tiles. Why was he always excited in the last days? _Adolescence._ Harry considered a moment the remix of his nether regions. He felt the familiar sensation of warmth in his loins, and that particular feeling his cock that could be described only as a request for attention. With a sigh of resignation and defiance, slowly brought his hand down, on his abdominals, between the few locks of his pubis, and down even more.

Meanwhile, it reached a thought: if he and Ron had a clue, this year would be rather embarrassing live in five in the dormitory.

_AN: Here! I hope you enjoyed. I enjoyed writing this chapter, especially the part about tattoos._

_I ask again apologize for the numerous grammatical errors, and not only that (Find a beta reader is more difficult than I thought). I hope you will forgive me, even for a long time since the last chapter, noting that this is longer than the previous ones._

_In the next chapter we go for Hogwarst Experss. _

_As always: Comments are very welcome and very useful (I'm glad for the fav and for alerts, but I hope in some comments - that is an insatiable girl- : p) So let me know what you think!_


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